Cross Dressing?
by LenkaJeneva
Summary: This is my own attempt at a Fem!Harry fanfic. Takes place during Goblet of Fire. Reviews welcome.
1. Chapter 1

**So I decided to try my own hand at a Fem!Harry fanfic. It may not be the greatest thing ever written, but it's a start. I'm not sure what the pairings will be yet, so go ahead an make any suggestions!**

**Reviews and Flames welcome.**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter

* * *

"No."

"Oh come on!" Cedric stared at her with wide eyes. "It'll be the champions uniting – us verses the world! Gryffindor and Hufflepuff teaming up! A Hogwarts win! And–"

"No."

The blond gave her a dirty look. "Why not?"

Emerald eyes surveyed him under a tuft of black hair. "Because I said so," she answered, shifting her book bag strap on her shoulder. "And the girls always right. Besides, I'm not ready."

"You'll never be ready!"

"Well…" The young Potter grinned. "I could always go – but what about Cho?" Surprise flickered through her green orbs as she quickly continued her little inner monologue – effectively cutting the boy off. "Oh my God! That rhymed!" And her hair morphed into a bright pink.

Cedric scowled at the interruption. "_Anyway_!" He said quite loudly, he quickly glanced around the hallway before giving a sigh of relief. Thank Merlin they were alone. "Cho wants to go home for Christmas," he continued, "She can stay if I need her to, but other than that, her dad is expecting her home soon."

"Okay then, talk to my godfather."

"You go–" He cut himself off with a jerk, paling significantly. "C'mon! Don't be like that! _Harry_!"

"See you Ced," She tossed a wink at the petrified boy. "I'm going to go see if Fred was to play dress up so that we can go as the only cross-dressing couple there. It'd be interesting to watch everyone's reactions."

"Cross-dressing? Couple?" The Hufflepuffs voice hitched slightly. "You're planning on having Fred Weasley dress up as a girl and go to a dance with you dressed as a boy? And how will you explain that?"

"Dare. Bet. Take your pick."

"Oh Merlin…"

"We'd get George to play interference. He'd make the bet between us in front of a group of people and – _Blam!_ – we're going together with Fred dressed as a girl."

Cedric sighed and leaned up against the stone wall. Harry watched with thinly veiled amusement as the nun above him huffed angrily before marching out of the portrait with her nose in the air. "Did you talk to Fred about this?" He finally asked the girl, he gave her his best stern glare. Her amusement intensified.

"I talked to George," she said after a moment's hesitation. Cedric blinked in surprise, she was the only one who could find the twins when they were apart. "He was all for it – and one sad look and Fred'll be following me around like a lost puppy."

"And you think that a deranged mass-murderer would prefer _that_ than to go with me?"

"Well…" Harry laughed at his look of horror. "I'm kidding. I can't rightly say. He's still on the fence about me telling the world I'm a girl – and a meta. Then again, it hasn't hit him yet."

Cedric hesitated, not sure if he wanted to know. "What hasn't hit him yet?" He asked finally.

"That I'm a fourteen year old girl living in the boy's dorm – full of horny teenagers – and that I can make myself look like _anything_."

"You'd be out of school before you could utter a word."

"And there'd probably be a few bodies scattered around missing some limbs." She stared at him with a grin before leaning up against the wall beside him. "And besides," she continued as she made herself comfortable, "you'd be bored without me here. So you (nor anyone else) won't say a thing to him." She shot him a warning look, as if to say 'or else.'

"You know he'll eventually realize it for himself."

"Merlin help us."

"Where is the guy anyway?"

The pink haired girl beamed at his question. "It's a trade secret!"

"C'mon Hare," Cedric said as he stood up straight, dragging her with him. Harry was positive it was because she refused to budge when the subject of Sirius Black popped up. "We've gotta' go down to lunch anyways."

"And I can put my plan into action!" She allowed her hair to shorten to her regular pixie cut as the pink hue faded to her usual black. "Operation GBTCD!" She smiled sheepishly at Cedric's bewildered stare. "Operation Get Boyfriend To Cross Dress – OGBTCD for short."

"Okay…" The sandy haired boy abandoned that thought as he continued to push her down to the Entrance Hall. "So I guess that means you're sitting with the Gryffindors today?"

"I doubt your 'Puff's would enjoy me stealing their spotlight and sitting at your table all in one go."

"I suppose you're right," Cedric said, he nodded at a waving body of armor they passed. "G'luck on your quest."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," she waved her hand as she jogged forward, "see you later Ced."

And she disappeared into the Entrance Hall.

Cedric Diggery sighed and joined the masses entering the Great Hall.

* * *

"_You are on!"_

Harry blinked at the familiar yell. "What are they on about now?" She ignored Hermione's muttered statement as laughter scatter down the hall.

"Fred?" The raven-haired cross-dresser leaned forward. "George? What's going on down there?"

"I can't believe them!" Harry pulled back as Parvati Patil angrily threw her books down on the table. She dropped into a seat opposite them, followed quickly by Lavender Brown. "Idiots!"

"What?"

"Your brothers," Lavender expanded slowly, as if talking to a child, "are idiots."

Ron gave her an evil look. "I already knew that, but–"

"But what, oh brother of mine?"

"Does little Ronniekins have an opinion he'd like to express?"

Fred and George Weasley, respectably, stood behind the three fourth years.

"Any reason the two Dunderheads are here?" Harry asked dryly.

"I'll have you know–" Fred started as he squeezed in between Harry and Hermione as he sat down.

"–that we are two–" And George just had to continue while Fred was preoccupied.

"–of the most–"

"–wonderful–"

"–handsome–"

"–wicked–"

"Moving on," Harry said forcefully before Fred could continue – the boy dutifully shut his mouth. The students around them stared in slight shock as the twin behind the Boy-Who-Lived snorted with barely repressed laughter.

"Well, you see…"

"–they made a bet."Parvati finished for them with an irritated scowl.

"A bet?" Hermione questioned, she eyed the twin beside her. "What bet?"

"Well," George pushed Ron off to the corner as he attempted to scoot onto the other side of the Boy-Who-Lived. Harry very suddenly found herself squished (uncomfortably close) to two identical red heads. When George wiggled his eyebrows, Harry thanked the heavens that her hair hadn't turned a bright pink yet. "You see, Fred's gotta' ask you something–"

"Oh no!" Harry mustered up the most horrified expression she could as she glanced between the twins. "You said you wouldn't interfere with the bet!"

"What bet?" Hermione questioned after Ron suddenly burst out into laughter.

"Cross dress – boy – bet – twins – Harry –" The red haired boy fell off his chair as he continued laughing. Parvati sent an irritated silencing charm at Ron. She shrugged off Harry's disproving look.

"This little Darling here," Idiot Number 2 snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her up against his side, "made a teeny wittle bet with little ol' me 'bout a week ago – I questioned his manliness, you see?" She was pretty sure Hermione was muttering something about boys behind Fred's outraged cry. "So," the red haired idiot continued with a grin, "I told him, that if a guy asked him to the dance – he'd have to go with him – if not, well – it'd be embarrassing on my part." He trailed off with satisfaction at the horrified faces around them.

Ron continued laughing.

"So – you'd like to go to the Yule Ball with me?"

Silence suddenly descended around them. "Harry could dimly hear the other tables talking in the background. She nodded.

"Excellent!" George clapped his hands together. "So who'll be the girl?"

"Nose it!" Harry stated automatically, her index finger touching the tip of her nose. She couldn't resist adding a soft "hope you like dresses Fred" as the laughter suddenly engulfed them once again.

This little confrontation would have spread across the school like wildfire within the day.

It'd be an interesting week.


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay! So, I decided to kick my but into gear and actually update this story. It took me forever - I'm sorry about that, and my muse died on me while trying to write it, but I seemed to have revived my muse enough to write this chapter, and, hopefully, I should have another one up soon. And I'll try to make my next chapter longer.**

**Sorry it took forever, but I'm updating this and eating chili afterwards.**

**And no, _I don't own Harry Potter!_**

* * *

Of course, Harry hadn't taken into account Sirius Black's reaction.

Nor the prophets reaction.

Most importantly Sirius' reaction.

Sirius, who had gotten worried once he'd heard his goddaughters name muttered in the streets (rumors, stories, and the tournament putting him on edge), managed to snatch one of the newer Daily Prophets from a man sitting outside and drinking from a flask. Probably wasn't the man's greatest day, or Sirius' greatest idea (although, Sirius _had_ had some awful ideas before).

The Headlines were not welcoming to say the least. And, needless to say, he wasn't sure if he was angrier with Rita Skeeter, Fred Weasley, or Harry Potter.

And he was pretty sure he was about to kill someone.

But now, here he was, sitting at the bottom of the boy's staircase to the Gryffindor tower – not sure if he was going to kill Fred or Harry.

… And Harry was up there. Little Harry. That little baby girl. In the boys dormitory. In the forth year boys dorms. Surrounded by boys. _Teenage boys!_

Suddenly, this entire plot that he and James came up with sounded like one big, bad idea.

He sprinted up the stairs. His paws padded across the carpeted floor, muffling his steps as he past by, what he knew to be, the first year boy's dorm, second, third… A large brown door with a golden plague stating that this was the 'Forth Year Boys Dorm' loomed in front of him.

That was where Harry was sleeping.

Cautiously, he morphed back into his human form, his hair long, scraggly, and his clothes ripped and shredded - he was sure that he looked every inch of the insane mass murderer that people made him out to be.

He cracked the door open and peered inside.

Each of the five beds had their curtains pulled shut and Sirius sent them all dark looks. How _dare_ they… in the same room as his baby girl…

He crept further into the room, skimming the belongings surrounding each bed until his eyes fell onto a _Firebolt_ lying conspicuously in the corner against one of the bedposts.

Sirius sent another dark look at the remaining four beds before quietly walking over to his goddaughter's bed and pulling the curtains open.

Her hair was long, Sirius realized as he caught a sight of her (thankfully alone), and it was purple. Her small, pixie-like face slept silently, her chest rising and falling with each breath. She was curled on her side, and Sirius was thankful that she was facing him. The last time he'd seen her this peaceful…

He let out a small huff of exasperation and crawled onto her bed, and, sitting on the edge, as he shut her curtains. He'd just have to play guard duty for a little while.

No one was going to pass by him towards her on his watch.

He almost hoped that these snot nosed brats attempted something; let's see how they react to a deranged mass murderer chasing after them…

* * *

Padfoot awoke to a thick blanket slamming over his face.

"Go 'way Thomas! I'll sleep in if I want to sleep in!"

There were various shouts as the large dog heard the curtains lock shut. The voices dwindled, moving away, and he heard the door shut.

He peaked out of the covers.

"And you," Lily's green eyes stared at him narrowly. He resisted the urge to climb back under the covers. "What do you think you're doing here?"

Sirius transformed back, his hair matted, clothing torn and old, and he sat cross-legged at the foot of the bed. He matched her stare with an angry glare. "What am I doing here? What am _I_ doing here!" He watched as Harry let a small wave of horror wash over her face – both realized that this would not end well. "What are _you _doing here? You are _not allowed_ to even think of coming in the boy's dorm – much less live here!"

Really, if she thought that he wouldn't realize this, then that was kind of stupid of her to believe that this- this _entire catastrophe,_ would have stayed quiet within the school – ahem – make that three schools.

He watched as her face heated up and saw a few strands of pink hair fall into her eyes, "That still doesn't explain why you're here…" she muttered quietly, although she knew quite well why he was there.

And her excuse seemed weak, especially to one Sirius Black. "I'll by your guard dog until you are finally away from all these hormone chasing–"

"Guard dog!"

"You expect me to just let you stay here all by your lonesome with nothing but hormone driven teenage boys!" Sirius cried out, obviously horrified at the mere idea (not nearly as horrified as he was at the fact that she had spent the last three years with said boys without any protection whatsoever – it didn't matter if everyone thought that she, herself, was a boy).

Harry crossed her arms over her chest, "I've been fine for the last three years," she said, Sirius narrowed his eyes at her defensive tone, "I don't need any help."

"Don't you _dare_ remind me of that fact," Sirius hissed, "You are not going to be speaking to any of these- these – _hormone driven fools_."

Sirius' eye twitched dangerously as Harry rolled her eyes, "And how many times have you called them 'hormone driven'?" she asked snidely.

"Watch it," Sirius warned her. "Cause I am staying here whether you like it or not. _And_ I am supposed to yell at your first boyfriend, and you're not allowed to date _anyone_, and you're first date isn't supposed to be _cross-dressing!_"

"Doesn't that contradict itself?"

Sirius waved his arms over his head, "Don't apply logic to this! Don't you dare! Let me have my righteous anger!"

The girl sighed, "Oh my God…"

She looked around before meeting Sirius' eyes once again, "Look… just, stay here for now, okay?" She asked, Sirius paused at the pleading note in her voice. "I'll bring up some food later, but, I've got to get to class, I can't miss out at all… I–"

Sirius gave her an awful frown at calming him down – he needed to rant a bit more.

"Fine," he said finally, giving her a look, "but be rest assured that we are not finished with this, not by a long shot."

"Promise," she said quickly, throwing her arms around him.

Surprised, Sirius sat there for a moment before hugging her back. "Don't talk to any boys," he told her gruffly, why wasn't she still a little girl? He managed to miss her most adorable years… "I'll find out if you do, I'll promise you that."

He didn't get an answer as she picked up her bag and ran out the door… still in her pajamas.

The man rolled his eyes and sat back against the bed, tapping his foot, and waiting for her to realize that she hadn't gotten changed yet. This was going to be a long day…

Wait a minute – he sat up, eyes wide: How was he going to explain this to Dumbledore again?


	3. Chapter 3

**Ah ha! I managed to update this chapter fairly fast (okay, so it's been a few days, sue me), but, continuing onward! Now, I don't have much to say, so I'm just going to let you Read (review, maybe?) and then I've got to go take my doggy out (and not the metaphorical Padfoot that I wished I had... or at least... I wished that I named my dog Padfoot, that would have been the greatest). **

**I don't own Harry Potter. Simple as that.**

* * *

"Harry," said person looked up blearily at her name, "is your hair longer."

Harry blinked a few times as she tried to process that question, before attempting to figure out who asked it. "Her-her-" a yawn cut through her throat, "Hermione? Whachoo doin' in meh room…?" She asked, her words slurred, "Hoggies don' start til Fri-" She promptly closed her eyes once again, intent on falling back asleep.

The world seemed to hate her however, as Ron quickly laughed, and Hermione once again began pestering her. "Harry, get up," she heard, Ron she assumed, talking to her, "Binns has finally shut his mouth."

"He finally died?" Harry asked, blinking once more, she didn't wait for an answer, "good. Now, lemme sleep…"

A hard, flat object to the back of the head diminished that dream. "Get up Harry; I'd rather eat now if you don't mind! And you're hair is longer!"

"Hair grows," she muttered, "and I got George to lengthen it for me earlier to see how it'd look, magic, you know?" Of course, she wasn't about to tell one of her best friends that she was a metamorphagus and that she'd never told either of them. Ron would find it awesome, but Hermione… she loved the girl, she really did (although, at the moment she'd deny it, seriously, hitting one of your best friends with your history book, how evil could you get?), but Hermione would be pissed that Harry had never told her that fact. And Harry really didn't feel like becoming a test subject.

She remembered what Tonks was like during school. She didn't want that to happen to her… although Tonks… she just managed to lap the attention up like a dog in heat (probably shouldn't use that expression around Sirius though, he'd either be A) horrified that she made fun of dogs, or – more probably – B) angry that she's living in the forth year boys dorms).

Either way, she didn't want to deal with that.

She distinctly heard a huff above her, "I don't know why you'd let the twins practice their 'magical abilities' on you, they're both idiots."

"I thought that we all already agreed on that," Harry asked as she finally stood up, rubbing her head gingerly. That had actually really hurt. "Didn't we have a House Vote or something? Who's the class idiot for the year?"

"George was the idiot this year," Ron said, "Fred managed to make House Clown. Both of them were over the moon about it, although they kept switching their titles around to confuse people."

"Hurry up Harry," Hermione said, forgoing the attempt at small talk, "I want to be able to get a good seat in the Great Hall before they're all taken."

Harry rolled her eyes but dutifully picked up her bag from underneath the table before standing up. "You two head on to the Great Hall, I'm going to eat in the Kitchens today, don't feel like having the 'Puffs glaring at my back while I eat."

A chagrined look passed over both of their faces. "I'm sorry," Hermione muttered, "I didn't… do you want us to go with you, keep you company? I really wouldn't mind, we'll just–"

"Hermione," Harry let out a small laugh, before stifling it as she tried to concentrate more on not allowing her hair to change orange. Again. "It's fine. Some me-time will do me good, don't you think? I'll be fine."

"You sure?" Ron asked, "Cause the kitchen always cooks a mean dinner down there. Kind of lonesome by yourself."

"I'll have the house elves to keep me company," she told him, ignoring Hermione's angry sounding _humph_ and Ron's disbelieving stare. She sighed. "Really, I'll be fine._ By myself_. Do I need to do a Finnegan? By meself?"

"That's fine," Hermione said. Harry gave her an encouraging sort of smile (she was fairly certain that it came out rather demented… they always did) as Hermione gave her one last _Look_. The sort of Look that deserves a capital letter and italization and emphasis cause Harry didn't know how to describe it. It was different from the other looks. It was _the _Look.

Then again, Harry might just be crazy, which was entirely possible. Because, really, she had been pretending to be a bloke for as long as she could remember. Her Aunt would complain every day about faulty birth certificates and 'can't even tell the _gender_' and had refused to have it changed since.

Ever since that day, she'd been considered Mr. Harry James Potter, minus the male genitals.

She watched as Ron proceeded to drag Hermione out of the classroom without a second glance. Thank Merlin for small mercies.

Harry waited another moment, twisting on the balls of her feet, before slipping up to the door. She peaked out to, thankfully, see that the hall was empty. She breathed a sigh of relief then proceeded to slip out the doorway (she loved how Binns would fly straight through the wall as soon as he was finished) and walked toward the kitchens.

* * *

"You're lucky that house elves love me," Harry announced dryly as she plodded into the room, shutting the door behind her.

A large shaggy, black dog head peaked out from underneath her bed.

She raised a brow. "You were peaking through my things, weren't you?"

The dog shook its head before pulling back underneath the bed.

She rolled her eyes. "Get up you fat lug," she said, walking over to her bed and jumping on top of it. She heard a small whine as the bed sprang back up. "I'll continue to jump on the bed," she taunted, bouncing slightly.

A moment later Padfoot squeezed out from under the bed before transforming.

She grinned at her worn godfather. "Come on then old man," she said, poking at the basket that she brought with her, "I've brought a bucket load of food. And you're lucky that I managed to ditch Ron and Hermione. We don't need anyone to know that you're here, right? Right. You got that? Good. Just making sure."

Sirius shot her a dark look, "I'm not old," he muttered under his breath and made to jump onto her bed.

Harry held up a hand. "No," she said simply.

Sirius gave her a dubious look, "No?" He asked, bewildered.

"No," Harry repeated, "there is no way in hell that you are going to spend another second in my bed looking like hell worn over. I don't want my bed smelling of homeless person when I come back from the rest of my classes. I've got an hour off, there's the bathroom right over there," she pointed toward the inconspicuous door off by Seamus' bed, "and I'll keep watch. Go."

"_What_?" Sirius asked. Harry grinned at her godfather's predicament. "Come on, you need a good scrub, and my next periods free. I'll work on my transfiguration essay while you're in the shower. Hurry it, you've got half an hour before I start eating this food."

"Wait, _what!_"

Harry crossed her arms, "Fine, twenty minutes then."

She smirked as Sirius held up his hands in defeat, "Alright," he said, backing up, "_alright_, I'm going."

"Nineteen minutes," she said, glancing down at her wrist before realizing that she wasn't wearing a watch. A flush came to her cheeks and she quickly glanced up to make sure that Sirius didn't realize that before she realized that the space where Sirius was, was now mysterious clear and that she could hear the shower head running in the forth year boys dorm bathroom.

She grinned sheepishly before moving to rummage through her things (which Sirius had, indeed, rummaged through, her stuff was all over the floor and it seemed as though he ended once he reached the pads that she had hidden beneath her Uncle Vernon's socks.

Serves him right, going through her stuff. She might as well start throwing tampons at him.

Harry snorted and started to pile her things back into her trunk. She might as well make him wear Dudley's cast offs. Pausing, she stared at said cast offs before shaking her head.

Even she wasn't that evil.

She pulled up a couple of her school robes, tossing them in (no way in hell was she going for neat), and followed them up with the few trinkets that she'd got from the Great Hall during Christmas only a couple years back.

She then gently placed her invisibility cloak and photo album on top before pausing.

Her invisibility cloak had been carefully wrapped around those pads at the bottom of the trunk… Oh God, Sirius really was attempting to find some horrible evidence to some nefarious crime that she'd supposedly done with the 'horribly hormone driven idiots'… really? Was he hypocritical much? She was fairly sure that she remembered overhearing some stories not meant for innocent ears.

Then again, if she said anything about that, she could just hear Sirius screaming about evil people corrupting his poor little baby girl.

He'd already done it once, back when she first talked to him through the fireplace.

Sirius managed to scream himself hoarse about how people were attempting to kill his poor innocent little baby girl who was only a little toddler and that they should be ashamed of themselves and – Harry had ended up putting a silencing charm up on the room while she let him run out of steam.

She paused in her thoughts as she found her watch and strapped it to her wrist.

Ah well, she didn't know how much time had passed by now… might as well eat while she was waiting. Didn't want to go hungry waiting for the idiot.

* * *

"Where were you at lunch?" Fred asked as soon as he managed to corner Harry outside the Great Hall, he leaned forward toward Harry's face.

Harry leaned back.

"I had some business to attend to," she said stiffly. It wouldn't do to tell Fred that her godfather just realized that she was sharing a room with a bunch of guys and was pissed that she was apparently going to a ball with some cross-dressing guy (she spent at least fifteen minutes of Sirius screaming about how a drag queen wasn't good enough for her and that she's too young to date anyway).

As embarrassing as it was now, Harry knew that a few years from now she was going to laugh her ass off about it and have some hilarious memories, but, for now, she could keep it quiet.

Fred scoffed, "Business to attend to? You had Hermione worried sick, wouldn't stop chewing on her fingernails all through lunch, and even Ron managed to notice that you'd been gone for too long when you didn't challenge him to chess.

Well no duh, she thought miserably, after all, she did have a duty to her roommates to ensure that a crazy, overprotective Azkaban escapee didn't ransack their stuff.

She was trying to be a good friend, was she not allowed to be a good friend anymore?

"I'm not allowed to talk to any boys today," she said morosely, "and he has ways of finding it out, he told me so."

Fred, who had been leaning (more like towering, Harry mused) over her, paused. "What?" He asked, bamboozled. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that a crazed person is attempting to ransack my dorm and kill all the Gryffindor boys plus any other possible male candidates that may want to hurt me or who have even attempted to talk to me. Last I saw, he was making a list to castrate Draco Malfoy."

"Good on him," Fred said, "Now who is he?"

She grinned as she realized, quite belatedly, that she hadn't yet told Fred about her godfather. Or his innocence. Or his plans to become a murderer within the next twenty-four hours.

She should probably tell Dumbledore in a desperate attempt to head this off, but she wanted to see where this all played out. It could only prove to be immensely interesting (or embarrassing) in the very least.

"You know what," she said after a moment, "you should meet. He'll want to meet you and see if you prove to his standards anyways." Sirius probably had an entire list of things that Fred was expected to do and if he did he would die a slow and painful death that would manage to completely contradict itself in a way that no matter what Fred did, he was doomed to die.

Ah well, as is life, and Fred couldn't back out of it anyway.

"I mean," Harry continued lithely, "I'm sure you'd love to meet him, I remember you saying that you always wanted to meet him, and that it'd be a dream come true." That was probably only going to last all…well, until he walked into the room and discovered that he was a murderous escaped convict who wanted him dead for talking to his goddaughter…

At his disbelieving snort (evil, little twitch, she would now do this with glee since he oh so cheerfully didn't believe her), she was prompted to continue with a little, "He goes by the name of Padfoot," she said tauntingly.

Fred ceased all actions, both of them hidden away in this little, darkened, hallow just off of the Great Hall, people slowly leaving in pairs, never looking their way.

"Padfoot?" he asked, disbelieving.

Really, again with the disbelief? What was she? Chopped liver?

But, instead, she nodded solemnly, "Padfoot," she repeated. "I can introduce you to one of the Marauders, your dream come true. Think about it. I'll get you tonight."

He stared at her, disbelieving (_still!_) and she took the opportunity to bound around him, "See you Fred," she called out, "Don't forget to find a dress soon, you've got to look good come Christmas!" She sprinted out of the Hall.

Fred stared after her, silently mouthing under his breath.

Harry was sure that she'd broken him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter four, next will be the confrontation with well... Sirius. If anybody has any ideas that they'd like to share with me, I'd love them. I have a few ideas, but, well, I'm waiting for my muse to come back to me. *sigh* the next couple of days are going to be busy for me though. I've got my Grandmothers wake tomorrow, and then the funeral the next day. Although I'm still hoping to have another chapter up in another week, give or take.**

**But reviews are like brownies - they're deliciously nutritious ****(and please, do not apply logic to that statement, brownies are just delicious - I don't care about nutrition - although, I hate how all the really good tasting foods are horrible for you, why can't pizza be a vegetable? At least then I'd be really healthy...).**

* * *

"Have I ever told you how much I love you?" Fred asked, following her like a lost puppy, "Cause, right now, I really, really love you. Are we going to go see him now? Please? Pretty Please? With a cherry on top?"

Harry sent the red head a dark look. "No," she said, "can't either of you two do anything about your brother?"

The aforementioned two shook their heads. "No way in hell am I doing anything," Ron told her, "this is amusing as hell – and what's he on about anyways?" The last part was directed at George.

And George, surprisingly, shrugged. "No idea," he answered, "I've tried to get it out of him, but he won't budge, he just keeps going on and on and on and on and on and–"

"And don't you two have class," Hermione's voice drifted over to them, all four (one raven-haired and three red-heads) turned towards the girl who was rounding the corner, "I thought that Transfiguration started about half an hour ago for you. And Harry, Ron, we've got History in five." The bushy-haired girl walked past them primly, striding toward the Binns' room down the next hall.

George, who by now realized that Hermione, was, indeed, right, chocked and sprinted off towards the staircases, Harry dimly realized that he was screaming something about McGonagall, turtles, passes, and latenesses… the kid was insane, it'd be best if Harry just admitted that to herself now.

And it was obvious that he obviously hadn't noticed the fact that his twin wasn't following him.

"Please?" Fred's voice cut through the surprised silence.

Harry sighed.

"Ron," she said slowly, "can you cover for me? I'm skipping Binns today. He won't notice as long as you transfigure something to look somewhat like me and tell him that I've taken a vow of silence or something. He'd eat that up. That is, if he even takes roll this time around."

Ron sighed, "Fine," he said, "but you owe me, you're covering for me next time I skip. And for Hermione too."

Harry winced. "Deal."

The red head nodded and spun around, making his way towards the History of Magic classroom with only a cautious glance backwards before he turned the corner.

Harry sighed once again and looked up at Fred's hopeful face. She was about to destroy all of this boys hopes and dreams. She was about to destroy his vision of the perfect Marauders. She was about to give Sirius perfect ammunition for testing the idea's of castration that he'd had for Draco Malfoy.

She idly wondered if Fred would ever forgive her.

Eh, Harry shrugged; she'd make it up to him eventually.

"Alright," she straightened her school robes, "but don't get your hopes up, cause I'm sure that he wants to kill you."

Predictably, Fred ignored her. Harry suddenly felt less guilty.

With (yet _another_ – she was insane, she was sure of it) sigh, she grabbed his hand and proceeded to drag him across the hallway. This earned her a yelp as she continued to drag the sixteen year old behind her without a second thought.

"_Hey_," the whine didn't earn him any brownie points, "am I not allowed to daydream."

"I'm about to make that daydream into your worst nightmare," Harry told him truthfully.

Fred scoffed.

Seriously, she had to wonder why she put up with him.

"So," she said, slowing down and wrapping an arm around his shoulders as they continued to walk towards the Gryffindor tower (up the stairs, to the right, up some more stairs, left, right, half way down the hall, and once more to the left and head back up some more stairs before heading down the next stairs and five paces to the right and to the Fat Lady), "guess how I know the mysterious Padfoot." Okay, so she could've done without the hand gestures and spooky sounds – they made it more interesting, alright?

She watched Fred break out of his daydream and felt, more than saw, him wrap his arm around her waist. "Because you're beautiful?" he asked innocently.

Harry sighed. Damn it. He earned himself brownie points.

"Don't do anything sweet," she advised him, "you're not allowed to make me regret this."

"How can I, being completely and utterly handsome and 'sweet'," he uttered the word with no small amount of annoyance, "make you regret making one of my dreams come true?"

"Do I need to repeat myself," Harry glanced around, winking at one of the portraits before allowing her hair turn into a soft green. She heard Fred mutter something about 'slimely slitherin colours' – which she promptly ignored – and lengthened her hair slightly, twirling it around one of her fingers. "My g- err… Padfoot, wants to kill you."

"Your ga-padfoot?" Fred asked suspiciously, "What's your ga-padfoot?"

Harry paused midstride, forcing Fred to stop beside her and twisted on her feet, "Erm…" she always knew that she was very eloquent with words, "you'll find out in a few minutes?"

It came out more as a question, but there was nothing that she could do about it now.

"Alright," Fred leaned close to her face, Harry leaned back. "You're hiding something from me…"

She couldn't help herself, "No," she drawled slowly, sarcastically, "you think?"

He raised one challenging eyebrow.

Harry lengthened her hair, and moved her head sharply, swishing it back over her shoulder before giving him an evil stare.

Fred narrowed his eyes at her.

Harry felt her challenging grin falter. "Erm…" she gave him an innocent look. "When I said that Padfoot wants to kill you, I wasn't joking." She saw Fred's glare falter. Deciding to put it as simply as she could, she blurted out, "He's my godfather."

Of course, Fred didn't exactly manage to understand that. "You don't live with your godfather though…"

"No," she agreed, "no, I don't."

"That's usually what a godfather does," Fred prompted, obviously choosing to ignoring the tap dancing skeleton behind him. Harry stared at the portrait for several long moments before Fred snapped his fingers in front of her face.

She gave him an embarrassed smile. "Yeah…" she blinked up at him innocently, "there's a story behind that…"

"One that will explain why you had to live with your vile relatives all your life and why you prance around pretending to be a boy?"

"All will be explained in due time," she answered primly.

Fred huffed irritably.

Harry groaned pitifully and pulled at his shirt sleeve, "C'mon," she said, leaning towards him and wrapping her arms around his stomach – she felt oddly small leaning her head into his chest and looking up at him with pitiful, wide eyes. "You're going to have to meet him sometime – and after you're finished screaming, and he's finished yelling, then we'll explain _everything_." She blinked up at him once again, "Promise."

She felt Fred deflate beneath her, and slowly wrap his arms around her shoulders, effectively squishing her head in his chest, and placed his own head on top of her (still green) hair. Harry felt his fingers twist themselves into her hair as he began to play with the long strands.

"You promise me, huh?" he asked, continuing to play with her hair.

Harry nodded, yawning slightly, and blinked tiredly.

She blinked a couple more times. "I hate you," she finally muttered. "A lot."

Fred hummed; Harry could hear the vibrations against her chest. She was feeling so sleepy… "Go to hell," she finally bit out, pushing away from the boy. She huffed at him. "You know that makes me sleepy," she said finally, giving him an evil glare.

The Idiot only gave her an innocent grin and held out an arm, "Shall we milady?"

"I'll make sure that my godfather draws out your death," Harry told him, her own hair turning an even darker red than Fred's, "He'll do it too, and he'll have fun. You don't _want_ to know who my godfather is. Padfoot is insane. Simple as that."

Nonetheless, she placed her arm over top of his own.

Fred merely snorted at the threat though, "He wouldn't be able to get away with murder," the damn ass cheeky… _cheek_… was back. "In fact, I'm pretty sure that you're making all this up. I mean, it wouldn't be the first time."

"Okay," Harry held up a finger with her other hand, "for one, me having a godfather is nothing compared to me pretending to be a boy, and for two," another finger joined the first in being raised; "I don't lie that much."

She glared at him once she heard him snort, "Oh no Professor McGonagall," the high pitched voice that was (apparently) supposed to mimic her own didn't help matters any, "Fred made my homework into a turtle, whatever did I do?"

"That was actually a true statement," Harry told him defensively, "I just never told her which homework assignment," she could see that the two of them were now approaching the Fat Lady, slowly, but surely, "and she just assumed that I was talking about her own."

"I managed to get a detention for that you know," The red head sulked at that.

Harry rolled her eyes, "You manage to get a detention for everything," she said sternly, "Fairy Lights," she told the Fat Lady as they approached.

"I wouldn't go in there if I were you," the Fat Lady advised, but, nonetheless, she opened the door.

Harry snorted at Fred's muttered "you can't tell me what to do" but the both went in cautiously nonetheless.

Although, it might have been better if they had just stayed outside. Or, better yet, if they had went to their current classes (even if she would have been bored to death in History of Magic).

Sirius Black stood his full height, an intimidating six foot four inches, only feet from the doorway.

"So," he asked, Harry dimly noticed the portrait swing shut behind her. And, a certain rebellious (or maybe not quite there) part of her mind wondered how and _why_ the Fat Lady would've willingly let Sirius into the Gryffindor Common Room after last year. "What are you doing here, alone, with my baby girl?"

Fred, who seemed to finally have gotten his wits back, screamed, "Sirius Black!"

Yeah, Harry probably should've prepped him more.


End file.
